


One Door Closes...

by notjustmom



Series: Ironstrange [48]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-04-06 21:22:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19070926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: “Every single decision we make, every breath we draw, opens some doors and closes many others. Most of them we don't notice. Some we do.”― Douglas Adams, Mostly HarmlessIronStrange Bingo Prompt: Bookshop





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, this is something I'm playing with - not sure what it is doing, precisely.

It was an ordinary door on an ordinary street, on an equally ordinary day, and yet there he was, standing in front of said door, and before he gave it another thought, he found himself inside a not so ordinary bookshop.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, and was reminded of the scent of the library of his childhood. The library he was never supposed to set foot in, as the books were priceless, but he still managed to sneak into it when his parents weren't paying attention and Jarvis was too busy running the household to keep an eye on him. He never touched the books, not even after his parents' death, as they were shipped off to some university's library, maybe Harvard's - or Yale's - he couldn't remember which, but knew it had been an Ivy League school that his father had left his collection to. Snob factor, he supposed. 

He opened his eyes and found himself wandering through the stacks until he came across a box of old comic books. They were old, and at the same time, they seemed to be in better than mint condition, which was impossible. He sat down and realized he was looking through his own collection that he had as a child.

"Where did -?" He looked around and found he was alone, or at least he thought he was alone. He shrugged, then turned his attention to the pile of comics he had spent his childhood reading until they disappeared once he had left for boarding school. To be honest, he had forgotten about them until now. He considered that he should think something odd was happening, but he shook off the feeling, found a comfortable looking chair and spent the next few hours reliving his childhood until he dozed off.

 

Stephen Strange watched him from the safety of the Sanctum Santorum a few blocks away, and sighed to himself. Seriously? He knew The Ancient One saw things in people he never could see -

"I saw greatness in you, Stephen," she reminded him gently and he rolled his eyes.

"As yet untested, Ancient One," he muttered under his breath, then started as Tony Stark sat up suddenly and the comics fell from his lap. "Nightmares."

"Hmm... yes, he struggles with his own demons, it is the first rest he's had in days."

They went silent as Tony rubbed his eyes, and remembered where he was. He stood up slowly and looked around once more, then mumbled to himself as he walked out of the bookshop, got into his car and sped off, as if he were being chased by something more real than the ghosts that haunted his sleep.

"He'll be back, Master Strange."

"How do you know?" 

"We've given him a puzzle. I've watched him long enough to know that when he's confronted with a puzzle or a problem, if he becomes interested, he won't give up until he figures out the answer. Patience, Master Strange."

"You know -" he mumbled at her, "I -"

"Yes, patience is not your strong suit, Stephen. This will be a puzzle for both of you, then, won't it?" She nodded at him, then left him to himself. He turned off the monitor that was connected to the bookstore and glared down at his trembling hands, then opened a portal to the library, as he knew he would find no rest that day.


	2. Chapter 2

"What is it that has you worried, Strange?" Wong muttered at him from behind his desk.

Stephen knew any attempt to deceive the librarian would be met with a stony glare, so he shrugged, then shook his head. "Stark."

"Hmm... yes." He continued on with his work, but Stephen had slowly learned patience had its rewards if he waited for Wong to complete his thought, and he didn't have to wait long. "You wish to meet him. You feel you are spying on him, and you would be correct. You both have issues with trust, and you no longer wish to deceive him." He paused again, then lifted his eyes from his work and met Stephen's gaze with a raised eyebrow. 

"You want to meet him."

"I am..."

"Curious? Yes. Of course you are." Wong considered him for a long moment then nodded. "Too much alike, you and Stark. But she knows what she is doing. She knew you would feel as you do. Tomorrow go to the bookshop, he will not be able to stay away, you both find it difficult to ignore your natural inclinations to need to understand why things are the way they are. Usually to your detriment, but perhaps the two of you -"

"I have no -" Stephen closed his mouth as a rare smile flickered over the librarian's usually neutral features, then vanished.

"Your books, Strange." Wong pushed the stack of books towards Stephen, then disappeared into the stacks. "I would rest tonight, I have the feeling tomorrow will be a long day."

 

Tony swore under his breath as he pulled up in front of the bookshop after driving past it for the third time that morning. He had spent all night researching the bookshop, and had found no reasonable answers to how his comic books had been there, or why he had been drawn to the shop in the first place. It had been there for years, according to available records, but he had never felt the need to visit it until yesterday, and he didn't understand why he was back again today, but since Siberia, not much was making sense, and for a few hours yesterday, he had been able to rest for the first time in years, and he needed to know why. 

"Hello? Anyone here?" He froze as he heard footsteps and turned to see a tall, lean man, dark except for the streaks of silver in his hair, and eyes that changed from blue to green to hazel and back again, in the few seconds before he caught his breath and found his voice again. "Sorry. I visited yesterday, the door was open -"

Stephen gazed at him for a moment before he nodded and cleared his throat. "Welcome, Mr. Stark. I'm -"

Tony studied his face again, then blinked into the eyes he never thought he'd see again. "I know exactly who you are, Stephen. It's been a few years, but I never forget a face, and I would never forget yours, no matter how many years it has been."


	3. Chapter 3

"I know it's been a few years, but I would have thought with your photographic memory and all..." His usual confident, arrogant chatter fell away to a whisper and he asked quietly, "I'm not that forgettable am I, Stephen?"

Stephen moved the necessary steps to stop Tony's next words with a single kiss, then drew back and shook his head. "No. I've spent the last fifteen years trying to forget you, without success."

Tony lifted a trembling finger to his lips and closed his eyes, then opened them again, expecting to find himself in bed, waking from one of the oddest dreams he'd had in years. He was used to the nightmares of Afghanistan, New York and Ultron, but dreams of a past love, that was new. He wasn't sure that he didn't prefer the nightmares, as the idea that Stephen was no longer the young man that he kept locked away in memory was almost unbearable.

He looked up to find Stephen still standing there in front of him, and he realized for the first time in years that he honestly cared what someone thought of him. There were few people who had known him as well as Stephen had, back when he was still the prodigy, before he became everything he learned to hate, and he wondered what Stephen could read in his face and from the intermittent tremor in his left hand. He really should have someone take a look at that, but they'd probably tell him he just needed some rest, they'd ask him when was the last time he'd taken a vacation, and he wouldn't be able to answer - there was Monte Carlo - how long ago was that now? But that really didn't count, did it?

Stephen cradled Tony's face in his hands and sighed. "I could pretend that I could tell what you've been through just from the old scars, those bruises that are still healing and the tremor in your hand, but you know better than that. I know what everyone else knows, just from watching CNN, but I also remember you as you once were, the brilliant, arrogant, gorgeous man I loved, who, in spite of everything, still had hope that he could change the world. And you have, changed the world, probably not in the ways you intended, but in your own way, you have given the world hope, at a time when it is needed most. And yes, you are still gorgeous, in case you were wondering."

"Why am I here? You have brought me here somehow for some reason, and I'm assuming it's not because you missed my omelets?"

Stephen laughed and Tony's brain stopped working for a moment; he saw the green eyes brighten and he took note of the new laugh lines that hadn't been there the last time they saw each other. The nose crinkle he adored was still there, and it took everything in him not to push him against the nearest wall and kiss him in the ways he used to dream of when the nightmares were too much.

"Still, even now, that's the only thing you can make?"

"A gift I suppose." He grinned back at him, and watched him withdraw slightly. "You still haven't answered my question, Stephen."

Stephen nodded, then kissed his forehead and whispered, "you are needed, Tony. I know you have questioned that lately, but I'm here because there is a new threat to our world and the universe, and you are the only one who can stop it."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I'm mucking about with time and their ages, they are both about forty when they meet again in the bookshop after not seeing each other for fifteen years... and they meet at Christmas for some reason.

Tony glared at him and shook his head. "You claim to know so much about me, then you must know I can't even keep six superhero type people and their various sidekicks together without at least half of them wanting to kill me, or at the very least just hating me in general. You got the wrong guy, Strange. I'm just a man in a can who needs a few months, preferably years, on an island with an unlimited supply of those drinks with umbrellas in them. And for a pick-up line, it stinks, just in case you were thinking of using it on someone else." He offered his former best friend and ex-lover half a smile and headed for the door.

"Wait."

Though everything told him to keep walking, he stopped and waited for a moment.

"At least have dinner with me."

Tony turned on his heel and found that he couldn't help but look closer at the man who stood in front of him. He was older, of course he was, as he was himself, and he bore scars that told of his own battles with darkness that he hadn't ever told anyone about, because they wouldn't understand. He reached out for the hands he still had dreams of every once in a while, and couldn't hold back a startled gasp as he finally saw the scars that marred the still elegant fingers. "Stephen."

"Long story. I think you might be the only one who would find the humor in it, at least I know you won't pity me."

Tony shook his head, then rolled his eyes as he couldn't believe he was still there and about to say what he was going to say as he offered Stephen his hand and sighed as long trembling fingers tangled with his, as if they had never been apart. "Come home with me, and you can tell me everything. I can't promise you anything, but I will listen. That's all I can offer you for now, Stephen."

 

Eighteen years earlier...

There was no reason why they should have met, except they did. A chance meeting most would say between a famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked) genius between relationships, and a brilliant surgeon to be if life worked out the way he had planned it since the day he turned eight, but from the moment their eyes met, neither believed it was coincidence. 

Tony Stark had done everything he could to avoid going home for Christmas, but was suddenly at a loss as he walked around Times Square, and he wished he was at home where in years past Jarvis would have a bit of Christmas dinner and his famous eggnog for him, and they would sing carols until it was time to watch Jarvis's favorite version of A Christmas Carol, the Alistair Sim Scrooge, of course, from 1951. For Jarvis there were no other Scrooges, and though Tony would grumble and fuss a bit, after a few minutes, he would settle in his chair and relax as the familiar words floated over him, and he knew he was loved. 

He came upon a nearly deserted bar and looked up to see the old black and white images of the movie he hadn't seen since Jarvis had died a couple of years back. If it hadn't been snowing, he would have kept walking, but he found he wanted a drink and maybe a bit of dinner, and if Jarvis existed in the afterlife, his ghost would definitely haunt him if he passed by on this night. He stomped his feet on the mat, then walked into the bar and shook the snow from his hair and shoulders, and seated himself at the bar.

"Mr. -" The bartender quieted as he saw Tony shake his head. Tonight, for once, he wanted to be anonymous, or at least not himself, and the bartender nodded at him. "What can I get for you?"

"Whatever you have on tap, and a cheeseburger if you got it."

"Fries with that?"

Tony shrugged then nodded, and thanked him for his pint as he turned his attention to the good sized television screen, usually intended for football games. "D'ya mind turning it up a bit?"

"Not at all - nobody else here to care, really."

"Thanks," Tony muttered absentmindedly as he found himself so engrossed in the story he knew by heart, that he missed the entrance of another customer who ended up choosing the stool next to him, though by then the bar had mostly emptied out, and he nearly fell from his stool as the new arrival asked him to pass the ketchup. "Sorry?"

"Ketchup. Can't eat my fries without it." The deep, exhausted voice grumbled at him, and he passed over the bottle without another word, then turned his attention back to the movie. "Best Scrooge ever," the voice continued between bites.

"The only Scrooge," Tony muttered, then finally looked over at the owner of the voice, and found himself blinking into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Even in the dim light of the bar, he could see the intelligence and humor in the nearly silver eyes, and then they suddenly turned green as he smiled, and shyly extended his hand.

"I'm Stephen."

"Tony."

 

At noon on Christmas Day, as Tony blinked awake to find Stephen sound asleep against his shoulder, he realized he had fallen in love for the first time. After a brief moment spent wondering if it was likely that someone like him could fall in love at first sight, Stephen opened his eyes and whispered, "Merry Christmas, Tony," and though Tony knew the odds of this relationship lasting longer than a week were tiny at best, he found he didn't care.


	5. Chapter 5

There were too many questions he could have asked in the ten minute drive home, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answers yet, if ever. As he pulled to a stop in front of his new home, a small brownstone, modest by his usual standards, in the middle of the city he had helped save not so long ago, he glanced over at Stephen and wondered what the hell he was getting himself into this time.

"Are you sure about this?" Stephen asked him quietly, and Tony understood how little had changed between them since the last time they had seen each other, if nothing else, they had always been honest with each other, and yet, they had still drifted apart somehow.

"No." Tony laughed for the first time in months, and removed his glasses, then shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure about anything these days, and if someone had tried to tell me last week that I'd be sitting here with you, I would have told them they were out of their fucking mind, but here we are." 

Stephen grinned back at him, as he saw a glimmer of the young man he had met nearly twenty years ago now, and wasn't surprised to come to the realization that he was still in love with him, even now, after all the years that had passed. "If it matters to you, I am sorry."

Tony blinked up at him and shook his head. "I was an idiot. Still am. It wasn't your fault, Stephen. Do you still eat cheeseburgers?"

"Of course."

"Good to know some things will never change." 

 

Tony closed the anatomy book Stephen was falling asleep over with a bang and placed a rather bedraggled looking omelet in front of him. "Tony. You only cook when you have to tell me something, and you think it's been too long since the last time I ate."

"Sometimes an omelet is just an omelet," Tony growled out as he dropped into the chair in front of him and watched as he picked up his fork and began to eat, as it had been eighteen hours since the last time he had eaten.

"An omelet is never just an omelet, when you make it," Stephen sighed as he finished it and let the fork fall from his fingers. "Just tell me what's going on."

 

Tony shook the memory away and cleared his throat. "Come on in, we'll talk, then order a couple of burgers, it's just down the street, but I'm not sure I can handle -"

"Don't want to be seen in public with an old flame?" Stephen mumbled as he opened the car door and paused to hear his response.

Tony shook his head again and whispered, "I don't want to share you yet. I'm still the same selfish asshole you used to know."

Stephen turned back to face him and saw what the last fifteen years had done to his friend and he sighed. "No, you aren't, Tony. And you weren't - you weren't that much of a selfish asshole, I was just as much to blame, if not more so, I shouldn't have let you leave." 

"And I shouldn't have left." Tony flung himself out of the car, then stopped short as Stephen was already waiting for him by the door of his building. "I know there is got to be an amazing explanation for - whatever you just did, but I know I need a drink or two first before you start."


	6. Chapter 6

After pouring himself a double and downing it, Tony dropped onto the couch and closed his eyes. "Alright, Stephen, from the beginning of whatever happened to you, all I know is that you essentially vanished from the face of the earth over two years ago -"

Stephen nodded, and with a wave of his fingers, he was transformed into the Master of the New York Sanctum, and Tony raised an eyebrow as the Cloak settled onto his shoulders, but otherwise had no reaction to the quick change. He should have known that a simple change of attire wouldn't throw Tony, considering what he'd seen and survived over the last few years. He cleared his throat and began. "I'll give you the short version. On my way to a talk, I was nearly killed in a car accident. I should have died. But, for some reason, I didn't. For a few months I wished I had. Then I went broke trying every known and unknown therapy to try to get my hands back, and as you've already seen, every single attempt failed. I considered getting in touch with you, thought maybe you could help, but, I was a mess, and I didn't want you to see me - to be honest, I had no intention of ever seeing you again. After I was nearly out of money, I found out about a place in Nepal, and for over a year I trained in the Mystic Arts, and I became a sorcerer." 

He walked over towards the windows and Tony sat upright as he sensed a surge of power from his friend that he hadn't felt since right before he fell back through the wormhole, except it wasn't the cold darkness that still kept him up at night, but a bright warmth that he wanted to wrap himself into and never let go. He got up from the couch and moving to stand behind Stephen, gently laid a hand on his shoulder. "Why the charade with the bookshop?"

Stephen let go of the breath he had been holding and nodded. "The Ancient One. She is the Sorcerer Supreme, she stands between the dark dimensions that you made contact with, and the rest of the universe. She, she saw you in a vision. Saw us, saving the universe, _together_. I believe, one day soon, I am fated to take her place. No. I know. It's not rational. But I have seen things, done things, things that in my old life I never would have believed if -" He stopped as he felt Tony carefully remove one of his gloves and bring his trembling fingers to his lips. He closed his eyes and it was by sheer will alone that kept him standing upright.

"I wish I had known. I should have known. For a few years, Jarvis would tell me when you had a paper published, and when you would give a talk - I would find a recording of it, just so I could hear your voice again. But, after a few years, I tried to move on - I tried to have a relationship, but she knew she was competing with your ghost. She didn't know who you were, she just knew I still wasn't over someone. I never got over you, Stephen."

"I'm sorry," Stephen breathed out as Tony moved in front of him, and slowly let himself sink into his chest. Stephen pressed his nose into Tony's hair and his arms remembered what to do on their own, as they curled around him and held on tightly. "I'm so sorry, Tony. It's only been you, there's never been anyone else, but you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of fluffy angst.

Tony drew away from him, then walked towards the windows and cleared his throat. "Curtains." As the dark curtains closed around them, he whispered out, "FRIDAY."

"Sir."

"No phone calls, no interruptions, even if the world collapses under this building -"

"Understood. Good night, sir."

Tony shrugged out of his jacket and let it fall to the floor, then spun around and faced Stephen again, and pausing for a breath before he strode over to him, and kissed him until they both had to come up for air. "I have many regrets, the biggest one was not trying harder to stay with you, to find a way to understand you. You were, you still are the best thing, and the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and considering the things I've lived through, the things I've done, I -" His words stopped as the cloak lifted from Stephen's shoulders and floated to a discreet corner. He couldn't help but shake his head in amazement, finally, as he removed Stephen's other glove, and tossed it aside, then gingerly took both hands in his and led him through the maze of boxes that were still unopened from the move months earlier, and into the rarely used bedroom.

"Tony." Stephen murmured as he watched Tony begin to undo the top button of his shirt. Tony's fingers froze, then his arms dropped and he nodded as he was about to stalk out of the room. "Stop. I just - please. Allow me."

Tony drew in a sharp breath as the buttons were undone and closed his eyes as he felt the shirt slowly slide from his shoulders. He couldn't bear to see the look in Stephen's eyes as he saw him for the first time since their last, well, he would call it a fight, but Stephen never fought with him, he had simply withdrawn when he realized Tony was unhappy, and hadn't said more than a few words the day he left.

 

"That's it then."

Stephen had barely looked up from his notes only to shrug at him. "It's what you want. It's obvious."

"It isn't."

"So stay."

"I can't. I can usually fix anything, but I can't fix this, us, and you don't seem to care all that much, haven't for some time."

Stephen finally got up from his desk and ran his eyes over Tony's shivering form. He had lost weight he didn't need to lose, he hadn't been sleeping or eating, and yet, he was still as beautiful as he had been the night they met. "I'm sorry. I -"

"Never mind. I knew, you warned me, but I had hoped, I thought I had a chance, but - yeah, it doesn't matter anymore." Tony pulled a t-shirt over his head, then hopped into his jeans. "You keep the apartment. I don't need anything, convenient thing about being a billionaire, I can always start over, anywhere I want, with anyone I want. I hope the career keeps you warm at night." Tony walked over to where Stephen was standing, and he briefly wondered if he was even aware of the tears that were running down his face. As he wiped them away, he whispered, "don't worry, Stephen, you'll forget about me the minute the door closes behind me. And I will be fine, I'm always fine." He kissed his forehead, offered him a gentle smile, then turned away from him, shoved his feet into his shoes, picked up his wallet and keys and was gone without another word.

 

He sighed as he felt Stephen's fingers lightly trace the scars that had transformed him from the careless playboy into the battle-hardened warrior, and he finally opened his eyes to find Stephen looking at him in the way he had so long ago, as if he were a wonder of the world, worth his time, and love.

"Stephen." He wasn't sure how he was able to speak, but when Stephen's robes were finally removed, all he could do was reach out and place his trembling hand over Stephen's chest. He closed his eyes again and felt his legs go as Stephen's fingers stilled his tremor. 

"Shh... I've got you, and I don't intend to let go again." He kissed the tip of his nose and grinned as Tony's eyes fluttered open. "That is, if that's alright with you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bit of magic, because why not...

He still remembered how it felt when he realized Stephen wasn't going to stop him from walking out, that failure still haunted him on the rare nights when the other nightmares gave him a break, and now, here he was, years later looking at him in a way that made it difficult to think. He didn't want to think anymore, he just wanted to close his eyes and feel everything, but he was afraid that if he closed his eyes now, another door would close and he wasn't sure he could handle another loss. He had lost everything he thought was important before, but he had been younger then, he had time to try to start over, but now...

"Tony." The voice, the voice was nearly the same as it had been back then, but it was deeper and even more beautiful than it had been, and he knew it was because he had suffered. He had lost as he had, the pain he would never wish upon anyone, was in his voice, in his eyes, and in the way he touched him, as if he were precious. He let out a sob as Stephen kissed each and every scar, then kissed him lightly and wrapped his arms and legs around him, as he whispered, "sleep, love, I'll be here when you open your eyes again."

He couldn't remember the last time he slept so well, or so long without interruption, and he vaguely wondered why as he resurfaced eight hours later to find Stephen curled around him, sound asleep. When they were younger, they rarely slept, and he could count on one hand the number of times when they slept at the same time together. If this was the only morning he would wake up in Stephen's arms, it would be enough, at least that's what he told himself. He tried to go back to sleep, but he wanted to see, no, he needed to see what Stephen looked like when he was at rest, at peace. 

He held his breath as he turned in Stephen's arms, and couldn't help but smile as he caught Stephen peeking at him under his ridiculously long eyelashes. "God, I love you, I'm sorry I never told you." 

"I'm not him anymore," Stephen whispered against his forehead, then drew back to look into Tony's eyes. "I love you, too. More than anything. You have no idea how much I wish I could take it all back, and start again."

"Can't we? Can't we just - isn't there some spell or trick - can't we go back and start over?"

Stephen kissed him long and sweet, and when Tony opened his eyes again, he found they had been transported back in time, before he had left, before they had both been broken and lost to each other for far too long. He had the idea that Stephen had just defied a few laws of time, but he found he didn't care. He kissed him back and looked into the brilliant eyes that no longer held the pain he had seen there before, and knew together they had somehow reopened a door he thought had been locked to him forever.

Stephen yawned and smiled at him. "I'm starving, let's go get some breakfast."

"Don't you have some studying you need to do?" He asked as he picked up his lover's beautiful, undamaged hand and brought it to his lips, and kissed each knuckle one by one. He stopped as he saw Stephen's eyes well up and a single tear slipped down his cheek. He waited for a moment before he kissed it away and tucked himself tightly against Stephen's chest. "Whatever you want to do is fine with me."

After what felt like hours, Stephen's arms settled around him and he whispered, "I love you, Tony, more than I love anything or anyone else, and I'm hungry and I want to take you to breakfast, or you can take me to breakfast, and then we're coming back here and I'm going to make love to you until I have to go to class. If that's okay with you?"

Tony nodded against his chest, and mumbled, "yeah, that works for me. I love you, too, sorry it took me so long to tell you."

"I always knew, Tony, I always knew."


End file.
